


You Know Why

by Downtoncat



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Broken Hearts, Canon compliant-ish, Dream Sex, Friendship/Love, Gay Sex, Homophobia, Love Confessions, Love Triangles, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pining, Romance, Secrets, True Love, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:20:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 19,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21684397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Downtoncat/pseuds/Downtoncat
Summary: What would happen if we put Thomas, Richard and Jimmy in the same fanfic?What if Jimmy did have regrets about how he and Thomas parted? What if Thomas loved Richard, but seeing Jimmy again reopened old wounds and rekindled something?Set post Downton Abbey Movie.
Relationships: Thomas Barrow/Jimmy Kent, Thomas Barrow/Richard Ellis
Comments: 62
Kudos: 219





	1. Chapter 1

He stared at the open envelope in his hands, suspiciously eyeing the unusually neat but familiar handwriting.  
  
Thomas had read the letter several times already - too many times, in fact - but its contents, despite their perfect legibility, continued to bewilder him.  
  
He continued to look at the piece of paper, a cigarette between the fingers of his other hand slowly burning away, while thin clouds of smoke lazily twirled into the air.  
  
He leaned back in his chair and looked out the window of the inn onto a dimly lit street. It was dark and quiet, not a soul outside. The flames in the fireplace were burning low, and the room was pleasantly warm; Thomas knew it would be even warmer under the sheets where he hesitated to return. The clock on the desk practically screamed at him that it was high time he were in bed.

But he couldn’t sleep. That’s why he was reading a bloody letter at 3 a.m. – or was that not the reason, but rather the _cause_ for his insomnia?

He yawned; his body may have been tired, but his mind was far too busy trying to make sense of the unexpected request written on that page that he was clutching in his palm.  
  
The letter and the person who had written it were hardly the surprising part in all of this. Thomas had been staying in touch with him for the past three years after all. It meant a great deal to Thomas, to have been able to keep that one good friend, even if only through correspondence. No one really knew about it, apart from a few exceptions. Things like this could hardly escape the perceptive eyes of Miss Baxter and Anna.  
  
It wasn’t anything too special; usually it was light-hearted, short letters, that he would send him; 'How are you? London, you don't say? Working at a hotel? What about all that ‘settling down’ that you once mentioned? No pretty lady caught your eye yet?'

To Thomas’s surprise, the response to the latter always appeared to lack enthusiasm.  
  
In return, he would receive cordial, friendly correspondence; straight-forward replies and inquiries such as: 'Oh, I'm doing quite well, how about you? What's new at Downton? How are Master George and Miss Sybbie? Must be growing up pretty fast! How the time flies. Is Mr Carson still alive and kicking? Congratulations on becoming butler, we'll have to meet up for a beer to celebrate.'  
  
They never did.  
  
But this was different. The tone of this letter was urgent, disconcerting – reckless, even. It was so different from anything they had ever written to each other that it seemed like it came from a different man. But the handwriting and the signature dispelled such doubts. It was definitely from him.  
  
 _Why can't he say? What could he possibly want? From me? After all this time… And those last few lines... Why so vague about it when-_  
  
The sound of bed sheets rustling brought Thomas back from his thoughts. He turned his head, expecting to see a confused, sleepy face looking back at him. But Richard was still sound asleep. His hair was ruffled, his face faintly illuminated by the moonlight coming in from the window. The covers were pulled down to his waist, revealing his bare chest. Thomas smiled as he looked at him lovingly, but with a bittersweet feeling in his heart. So few opportunities they had together, and yet he was wasting precious moments by staying awake and reading a bloody letter instead of lying in the arms that wonderful man whom he loved, and who loved him back.

The envelope in his hand somehow became heavy, like a lie that weighs a man down.  
  
 _But it's not a lie… I'll tell him. I'll tell him everything! Just not like this. Not now._  
  
He reached into the envelope and took the letter out to read it yet again.  
  
  


_Dear Thomas!  
  
_

_I've just about lost count of all the times I tried to write this letter. I hope this attempt will do._ _I wish I knew how to arrive to the reason for my writing more elegantly, but as the matter is rather urgent, I won’t beat around the bush._

_I need your help. I cannot discuss it in a letter, so I was hoping we could meet somewhere. I won’t bother you by trying to drag you to London – I can come to Downton or to the village, or to any other location of your choosing, if that’s what you prefer. Close to York would be best._

_I'm turning to you for help because I know that as the respectable butler at Downton, you have a certain status and far more influence than an ordinary hotel waiter like me does. I was hoping you’d be willing to play that card._

_I take no pride in always being the one who asks favours of you, but please trust me when I tell you – this is truly important._

_I want to conclude this letter by saying something that’s been on my mind for a very long time. Something we’ve been ignoring in our correspondence - an act of kindness on your part, and avoidance on mine. I hope you won’t find it impertinent, but I’m afraid that dishonesty has done so much damage between us that I fear there is not much left for honesty to save._

_What I should have said all that time ago to you in person: I’m sorry. You know why. I didn’t know myself then – or perhaps I don’t even know myself now – but I was a coward. I never hated you, I only hated myself. Until I left, I had no idea of just how much ~~you~~ your friendship meant to me. How much it still does.  
_

_I don’t know what you’ll make of this, because not even I’m sure what I_ _make of it. If it sounds like guilt, it probably is. But it's more than that still... I truly am sorry for how I treated you in the past. The years since we've been on good terms will never erase that. Not even a thousand years would. All I can say now is, I can offer no more excuses, only honesty.  
_

_Once again; I have no right to ask this favour of you – but I beg you, at least consider my request. Write to me where we should meet, please.  
_

_Yours truly, Jimmy_


	2. Chapter 2

“Mmm… morning,” he hummed in a low voice as he felt Richard’s hand on his shoulder.

“Morning, handsome,” the other man replied and pressed a soft kiss on a spot on Thomas’s bare back.

Thomas let out a very content hum, but refused to open his eyes yet. He reached for Richard’s hand and brought it to his chest, placing it over his heart and entwining their fingers together.

“Is it time already?” he asked with a yawn.

“’Fraid so,” Richard replied and curled himself closer to the other man, pressing his chest to Thomas’s back. “But I think we can spare another minute or two.”

Thomas yawned again, torn between opening his eyes and the desire to keep them closed a little while longer and savour the moment by relying on other senses; the feeling of Richard’s body heat, so soothing and comforting against his back. Skin-to-skin, no barrier of clothing between them. Richard’s hair, brushing against Thomas’s neck as he leaned his head closer. Richard's heartbeat, counting down the seconds of their time together, yet unmistakeably connecting them with each beat.

Should he allow himself the liberty of revelling in all of this, or admit that he’d be getting no more sleep and instead use the time to memorize Richard’s face, down to every charming crease, hoping that this image would be enough to keep him at least somewhat content in the following weeks which they knew they’d be spending apart?

Knowing that getting up and facing the day was unavoidable, he chose the latter.

The room was still dark, and no morning light was shining through the window yet, just dusky grey.

As he turned around, Thomas found Richard’s blue eyes looking at him so fondly, with so much love that it made him almost uncomfortable.

 _God, what have I done to deserve you_ , he thought and reached up to gently run his fingers along his jawline.

Richard smiled, but in almost the same instant a ghost of concern briefly crossed his face.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked, his tone casual.

Thomas’s stomach dropped; did his face betray him, did it show that he had barely had a wink of sleep last night? _It’s what people ask, Thomas. He doesn’t suspect anything._ Or was he paranoid and worried about nothing? _The bloody letter!_

But being who he was, bottling up his emotions was nothing if not second nature to Thomas.

“After what we did last night, how could I not? I slept like a log,” he smirked, deciding to brush off his own, as well as Richard’s presumed concerns. There was some truth here; Thomas did very much enjoy how they spent the first half of the night. The rest was less than a white lie, but he still felt a pang of guilt as he spoke it.

Richard searched his eyes for a moment, and then he mirrored his smile.

“Did I tire you that much?” he teased and raised one of his eyebrows quizzically.

“In all the best ways,” Thomas winked and leaned in for a kiss.

Richard’s lips were soft, and yet since the first time they kissed, Thomas had noticed that there was something contradictory about each time their lips touched; tenderness mixed with determination; gentleness infused with stability. Richard’s kisses, his touch – they grounded Thomas, yet made his heart soar. It was something most blissful, and he felt like an idiot for not trusting the man who made him feel this way.

_You’ll only make him worried! Just sort it out!_

“I’m sorry love, but I really must be off,” Richard said as he leaned away. “If I don’t catch the seven o’clock and get back on time, I’ll be risking the wrath of Mr Wilson.”

“Not the wrath of His Majesty?” Thomas asked and propped himself on his elbow while he appreciatively drank in the sight of Richard’s nude form as the brunette man stood up.

“You’ve seen them both,” commented Richard, reaching for his shirt on the chair, providing Thomas with a full view of his broad, muscular back and buttock. “Tell me, which of those two men seems more intimidating?”

Thomas couldn’t argue with the implication of that question. They exchanged a smile and the black-haired man eventually had to force himself to get out of bed and start dressing up so that he could accompany Richard to the station.

Upon leaving the inn and stepping outside, a cold, foggy morning greeted them. The street was still largely empty, most people asleep at this time. As Thomas tucked his hands into the pockets of his coat, he felt for an envelope which he had put there very early this morning.

 _You really_ should _tell him. But why bother him now? Look at how happy and carefree he is, why the hell would you send him off concerned?_ Should _he be concerned? Of course not, but he will be. Don’t ruin it! You’ll take care of it and it’ll all be water under the bridge the next time you see each other. Like it never happened. You’ll just tell him that Jimmy used to work at Downton, that he was-_ is _your friend, but that particular letter need never be ment-_

“I was thinking,” Richard spoke as they walked on, his breath turning into mist when it came in contact with the cool air. “I might be able to get us a place in London for next time. I’d like to show you around a bit, take you to a couple of my favourite spots if you’re up for it? D’you reckon you could get maybe two or three days off in a couple of weeks?”

Thomas, as caught up in his thoughts as he was, smiled happily.

“I’ll move heaven and earth if I have to,” he replied, observing how Richard’s face lit up at those words.

He adored that. Every time Richard asked him something like this, when he was unsure whether he was taking things to fast, or if he was being to forward, to eager – every time there was something reserved and guarded about him, no matter how casual he made his voice sound. Thomas enjoyed tearing down that wall, dispelling Richard’s doubts and letting him know that there was no need for worry. That Thomas loved him just the way he was, whether it was circumspect and pensive, or direct and passionate.

Thomas walked Richard off to the bus which was to take him to the train station. They couldn’t say proper goodbyes there, not how they would have liked to, even though there were hardly any people around. But Richard still smiled appreciatively at Thomas’s discrete touch of his hand as he helped him with his suitcase.

Thomas watched Richard leave, waving him goodbye and continuing to stand there for a few moments after the bus had already driven off, feeling a bit lost and lacking a purpose.

But it was hesitation rather than anything else that was keeping him from moving. He hadn’t forgotten that he _did_ have another errand to run before heading back to Downton.

He eventually crossed the street and turned left around the corner, his hand resting over the envelope in his pocket as he walked on. He stopped in front of the post office.


	3. Chapter 3

Thomas was sitting at a small table in a corner of the village pub, more or less disinterested in the pint of beer in front of him.

He could hardly remember the last time he was this caught up in his own brooding mind. In the three weeks that he’d known Richard, he felt like a completely different person; more open and trusting, kinder. Happier. 

But because of this one letter, there was once again a whirlwind of thoughts raging in his head. That was Jimmy Kent – always able to turn Thomas’s world upside down with virtually nothing; a smile, a look, a word.

Thomas brought out his little pocket watch on a chain at the end of which was a pendant with a silver crescent moon. He’d been waiting for over half an hour, and yet Jimmy was only five minutes late; Thomas had arrived here much earlier, with the intent of calming his nerves, but he found that even being early and imagining to have a sort of mental monopoly over the situation because of it wasn’t helpful.

He took a sip of his drink, indifferently picking at a crack in the wooden table.

_Why are you always imagining the worst? He could just need your help with something trivial-_

But the adjectives that Jimmy had used to vaguely describe the nature of his problem echoed in Thomas’s mind. _‘Urgent’. ‘Important’._

Now that the place was gradually getting more crowded, Thomas was at least pleased by the idea that they’ll likely blend in and not draw too much attention to themselves. He should have chosen a different location, somewhere where no one knew him – but he had just used his half-day to be with Richard a few days ago, and he couldn’t afford to ask for time off again so soon. Especially if it was just so that he could hurry off to Thirsk or Ripon or some other nearby town in order to meet up with a bloke from his past.

With his head down and distracted by his thoughts, he only now registered a pair of shoes that appeared in the periphery of his vision.

“Hello stranger.”

 _You..._ Thomas momentarily closed his eyes, just to steady his heartbeat – and then looked up.

He hadn't changed a bit. He was just as beautiful as the day he arrived at Downton; golden hair and ivory skin, a wrinkle or two more, perhaps, but that boyish, youthful look radiated from him still. Yet there’s was something sombre about his expression, Thomas noted now – much like the day when he watched Jimmy climb on that wagonette with half of Thomas’s heart and disappear from his life.

“Hi,” Thomas finally managed, gesturing him to sit down.

Jimmy’s expression gave little away, apart from the nervous, awkward smile as he seated himself opposite the black-haired man. But one thing which surprised Thomas was that Jimmy didn’t try to avoid staring – in fact, his eyes were almost too adamant to stay on Thomas for as long as possible. He couldn’t determine what Jimmy was looking for.

Without making too much of it, Thomas attributed this to the fact that they hadn’t seen each other in three years. It was a strange moment for both of them.

_So it’s just like that. You come back into my life just like that…_

He didn’t know what else he could have expected, but for some reason, the moment seemed underwhelming when compared to the damage Jimmy’s departure had done to Thomas. It took him years of licking his wounds, which now, in a blink of an eye, felt uncomfortably exposed again.

“How have you been doing?” Jimmy asked, trying to break the ice of awkwardness between them.

“Not too bad,” replied Thomas, focusing on Jimmy’s hands. “How’s London?”

“Same old, I guess. Foggy and glum,” the blonde man shrugged, one corner of his mouth lifting in a cynical half-smile.

“No beautiful women and champagne?” teased Thomas, deciding to tap into the remnants of that old bond they once shared, see if he could revive it.

Their eyes locked and Jimmy gave him a bitter smile. “Only in dreams of silly young lads. Even London loses its appeal when all you do is work all day.”

Thomas felt a pang of some indefinable emotion. He was suddenly immensely sorry for Jimmy, this man that looked every bit the young whippersnapper he once was – and yet there was a certain defeat in his eyes. His letters never led Thomas to believe that Jimmy could look – feel – this way. _What happened to you?_

Jimmy stepped over to the bar and ordered himself a pint, then returned to the table where the two men just sat in silence for a few moments, interchangeably sipping their drinks. They each had a million things to ask each other, but it all somehow faded into the background. There was really only one thing that was on both their minds now that mattered. They were waiting; Thomas for Jimmy to speak, and Jimmy for himself to gather the courage to do so.

It was Thomas who broke the silence.

“Jimmy,” he began. “It’s wonderful to see you, but as I gather from your letter,” he lowered his voice. “You have something urgent to discuss?”

Jimmy pushed his beer aside and nodded.

“I do… I need a favour.”

“So you wrote.”

“But you might not like it,” Jimmy added and looked away. “You might not even be _able_ to help, come to think of it… even if you wanted to.”

Thomas shifted in his chair. “Well, we won’t know that unless you tell me what it is, will we?”

Jimmy swallowed nervously and lowered his voice to a barely audible whisper and leaned closer.

“I need… I need to get a man out of prison,” he said lowly, with that strange, apologetic and imploring look in his eyes which was identical to the one he gave Thomas the day he asked him to help him sneak into Lady Anstuther’s room.

Thomas stared at the blonde man unblinkingly for a second while he processed his words.

“You need- Jimmy what the hell?!” he gawked.

“Listen,” Jimmy cut him off, attempting to explain. “He’s done nothing wrong, he’s there under false accusations and-”

“What false accusations?” demanded Thomas. “What’s he been accused of?”

Jimmy’s face went red and he looked away, clutching tightly the beer glass in his hands.

“I can’t get into that…”

Thomas looked at him incredulously.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. Jimmy, I can’t help you with something like this unless I know all the details. If you refuse to tell me, I might as well be bailing out a thief or a murderer!”

“Nothing like that!” protested Jimmy.

Silence fell between them.

 _Fuck..._ Thought Thomas as he observed Jimmy carefully. _I still can't deny you anything, can I? I'm the idiot who'd still bend over backwards for you - but I_ won't _unless you tell me everything!_ _How am I supposed to help with something like that anyway?_ He remembered Jimmy's letter and the words he wrote.

“Honesty…” he said quietly. “You wrote you were going to be honest with me. Where’s that now?”

Jimmy forced himself to look the other man in the eye. Trust that was once between them was burning through his feelings of guilt and reluctance. For all that Thomas had done for him in the past he deserved to know, no matter how uncomfortable it was for Jimmy. Anyway, all his cards would be on the table soon enough.

“He’s… he’s like _you_ , Thomas!” he whispered.


	4. Chapter 4

“What are you saying?”

Thomas knew more than well what the blonde was saying, but he absolutely rejected the idea of believing it without proper confirmation.

“ _Like you,_ ” hissed Jimmy, his discomfort growing with having to repeat the words. “He got locked up because he's like you, alright! But he committed no crime.”

Thomas would have laughed out loud, but something was stopping him. Jimmy wanted to save a man who was thrown in prison for being a queer, when he nearly reported Thomas to the police a few years ago because of the same crime! Granted, Thomas crossed the line back then, but still – this felt so out of character for Jimmy. ‘Can’t turn a blind eye to sin’. Why such a drastic change of heart now? Where did all this compassion come from? Thomas remembered that part in Jimmy's letter about not knowing himself, and it was beginning to make a lot of sense.

“And how exactly am _I_ supposed to help?” Thomas asked. “I doubt I can lend you enough money, even if I–”

“No, we don’t need money,” Jimmy cut him off.

_We?_

“That is – we don’t actually have enough for bail,” he corrected himself and looked down, his face slightly flushed with embarrassment. “Otherwise it wouldn’t be a problem… But I’m not asking you for coin,” he elaborated. “Look, you’re a butler at a prominent household. Surely you can use that title to your advantage? And also–” Jimmy paused for a second, briefly smiling under his breath as if to a private joke. “–you're Thomas! Never short of creative ideas and schemes, as far as I recall.”

Thomas managed a huff of a smile, and then he closed his eyes and exhaled, hoping to clear his mind a bit.

“Why?" came the simple question. “Why do you want to bust him out? Why is this bloke so important?”

Jimmy avoided Thomas's inquisitive gaze. He hesitated. “Well he... it’s not fair, obviously. He's done nothing wrong–”

“Don't.” Thomas cut in, his tone neither strict nor angry, only signalling that he was not in the mood for dancing around the topic. “Maybe I haven't seen you in years, but I know you, James Kent. You've made it this far, might as well explain the rest.”

Jimmy swallowed uncomfortably, and then there was a long pause. To Thomas, the blonde’s face looked as if he were coming to terms with the fact that he had no other option but to reveal the whole truth.

“He's a friend,” Jimmy eventually said. “Family, practically.” Noticing the other man's confusion, Jimmy elaborated. “He's my fiancée’s brother.”

Thomas's mouth fell open and he stared like stunned. That was something he had not expected.

“You’re saying you have a– but Jimmy, you never mentioned–”

“It happened recently,” the blonde man murmured and took a sip of his drink. “ _Very_ recently.”

“But you– you–” Thomas didn't know what he was asking. Despite their correspondence, the man sitting before him was a stranger. A man who had changed his tune – not for the worst, at least – but still, Thomas felt like he had been kept in the dark. Were they not friends? Was he not worthy of knowing such an important thing? Obviously not. Not until there was no other choice. Not until Jimmy needed something from him...

“Thomas,” said the blonde man quietly and reached for his hand across the table. “Will you at least _try_ to help? Please.”

Thomas's eyes widened when he looked at their hands. “Don't–" he warned and discretely removed his hand, gawking in astonishment. "There's people here Jimmy!” _Who are you, stranger?_

Those blue eyes gazed into his and begged him. Thomas wondered if Jimmy was aware of his own powers over him. Thomas sighed and closed his eyes, trying to process this conversation.

“I’ll help if I can-”

Just as he uttered his words Jimmy cut in gratefully. “Thank you, truly.”

“And congratulations,” Thomas added, trying to sound genuinely happy.

But it came out odd. Even Jimmy lacked the enthusiasm of a newly betrothed man.

“Right… thanks,” he said dispassionately (compared to the gratefulness in his voice just a second before) and stroked the back of his neck, a gesture Thomas remembered him doing when he was uncomfortable.

Thomas leaned back and traced the seam lines on his glove. “So what’s the story then? Was he caught...? You _know_ ,” his voice was so quiet that he was practically just mouthing the words. “ _With_ another man?”

Jimmy shook his head and felt a blush creeping up his face.

“No, he was just... he was at a certain club a few weeks ago, and there was a raid.”

Thomas furrowed his brow and frowned. _You must be joking._

“Jimmy,” he said slowly. “Where exactly was this?”

“York,” the blonde man replied, unaware of the weight that simple word held.

Thomas didn’t need to look into a mirror to know that his face must have gone ashen. _So it has to be one of those poor buggers then. Is the world really that small? Jimmy's fiancée’s brother was one of them–_

“And I know what you're gonna ask next, and you'll need to know that anyway,” Jimmy continued. “His name is Chris Webster.”

If Thomas had been drinking just now, he would have spat out his drink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been really blazing through with these first few chapters cause I got super into it :P but I'll be slightly more busy in the next few days with other stuff, so next chapter might take a bit longer. I'll just say this - it's gonna get complicated now


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said it would take a while longer for the next chapter, but it's amazing how productive you get if you're really into something :P Next one will be a bit shorter, but very... interesting.

“Mr Barrow- oh, I see you’re leaving already,” said Miss Baxter as she passed Thomas in the hallway. He was wearing his black coat and bowler hat, and a small suitcase rested by his feet.

“Just about,” he replied cordially and smiled.

“I’m so sorry to hear about Emily, I hope she gets well soon,” the lady’s maid commented. “Send her my regards.”

Thomas gave a small, affirmative nod, his face frozen in a semi-smile of gratitude. “I will, Miss Baxter, thank you.”

_Was it really necessary to drag your sister into this? No. But would Lord Grantham have given you yet another two days off had you said you were meeting an old friend to get his future brother-in-law out of prison? No? Ailing sister it is then…_

“I wonder if I should write to her,” Miss Baxter thought aloud, and Thomas felt his jaw clench. “I know we haven’t talked in over a decade, but as children we used to be so close. Maybe it would be a nice gesture…”

_Bloody hell!_

The butler waited a moment so as to not sound intrusive when he finally spoke in a tone as polite as he managed. “That’s awfully kind, but there really is no need, Miss Baxter. _I’m_ going there to see her, aren’t I? I’ll give her your good wishes in person.”

Miss Baxter took a second to ponder on those words and then slowly nodded. “You’re right. It would probably seem a bit odd…”

Thomas breathed a sigh of relief, but he felt himself sinking into a bottomless pit, full of lies – ironically none of them were really for his own gain, which was usually why he used to do it. This was just to keep others out of it. What he was willingly taking part in wasn’t exactly an every-day situation.

Besides, Thomas was an individualist. He had a hard enough time letting people in, and perhaps an even harder time letting them in on his plans. He would never have admitted it to himself, but the reason why he was keeping this whole thing a secret – especially from Richard – was actually fairly simple. It was because of that particular someone who never failed to tangle Thomas’s thoughts and feelings into a yarn of mess and confusion, which was perhaps so frustrating because it had never been untangled.

He swore to himself that he would tell Miss Baxter the truth once this was all over. She was a good friend and didn’t deserve this. Neither she nor Richard did. But for the time being, Thomas was just happy that she didn’t ask for his sister’s address, because he had no clue how he would politely refuse that request.

“I best be off if I’m to catch the twelve o’clock,” he finally said. “Will you manage without me?”

“If not, I’m sure Mr Carson will not object to filling in for you,” Mrs Hughes commented wittily as she walked into the hallway from the servant’s hall.

“Great, then you won’t miss me a bit,” said Thomas, a hint of sarcasm in his voice, but it was all in good humour. Let the old man have some fun in Thomas’s absence if he wants to. Planting tulips and lettuce from day to day has a predisposition of being very mundane work.

Thomas said goodbye to the rest of the staff and headed to the station. On his way there, a bunch of things raced through is mind.

For one, he felt terrible when he thought about Chris – if that really was the same man that Thomas had met at the pub. But what were the odds that it _wasn’t_ him? A certain Chris Webster finds himself in a peculiar club in York that gets raided by the police on allegations of queers gathering there.

Three weeks and two days ago, to be exact. Thomas still remembered every second of his short time in that cell. The damp smell mixed with sweat and other bodily odours, the vague, low murmurs and echoing cacophony of voices of the detained men, the cold and confined space, no privacy, no peace – especially no peace of mind.

When he was being shoved into that van, Thomas truly thought he was done for. He imagined that the end of his career would probably be the _best_ outcome he could hope for. If he got lucky, he would _only_ get fired. 

Maybe it was his negative outlook at the time, being completely down and seeing no future – but truth be told, sitting in that wretched cell, crammed in with some other miserable sods, awaiting his judgement, Thomas didn’t have much faith in the Crawleys bailing him out. Maybe Lord Grantham would, but Lady Mary worried him… Perhaps it was because she was very similar to Thomas. She wasn’t anything close to a bad person, but she could be unpredictable in her fickle nature. He knew that at any given moment she could have gone either way; and at that particular moment, Thomas had been out of her good graces.

He thanked his lucky stars for Richard. Without him, who knows what would have become of him. Without Richard, his life would be so much duller. Thomas knew him for only a few weeks, but he loved him so dearly. It wasn’t just how they spent the nights they managed to steal – it was Richard’s whole being, his personality, his wit, humour, how they seemed to complement each other… and that smile! It may not have been love at first sight, but it was like a flower; the bud slowly opening, growing, and now it felt like the rose was in full bloom. _Besides, isn’t love at first sight something that only exists in fairytales-_

And then a flashback of golden hair interrupted his train of thought. A pair of eager and curious blue eyes stared back at him, plush pink lips lifted into a smile and a surprisingly low voice echoed in Thomas’s mind: _‘Jimmy Kent, at your service’._

Thomas thought about the mess he found himself in now.

_Why are you even going? How the hell will you explain to him that your hands are basically tied? That you can’t really go to the station? That even though the officers might not recognize you, they could remember your name. ‘Did you hear, lads? There was the butler of an Earl among them queers we arrested at the club! Fancy that! A nancy, working for an Earl!’_

Thomas didn’t know how many policemen knew about a bloke who had shoved a royal household card in their faces, demanding that a certain butler be released – but he was suspecting that the word about that must have spread too.

So why had he agreed to help Jimmy? What was he going to do? And why was he bringing Richard’s card with him anyway? He couldn’t use the same tactic twice… could he? It was just dandy! He was going to have to tell Jimmy _everything_ and then hopefully come up with some alternative to get Chris out – he did want to do that – he just had no clue how!

When Thomas got on the train he settled himself in his compartment, deciding to use the next hour or so to get some much needed rest. As the train started moving, Thomas sunk back into the soft seat, leaned his head back and closed his eyes, temporarily letting all his worries float away and hoping that his dreams might provide a solution to the problem he was faced with.


	6. Chapter 6

_“I love you,” Richard whispered softly in his ear and ardently kissed the spot behind it._

_His legs were wrapped around Thomas’s back, and his fingers dug into Thomas’s arms, providing just the perfect symphony of pain and pleasure as they moved against each other, their breaths ragged._

_Thomas slowed down his movements, exchanging speed for depth and drawing out a low moan from Richard. He left a kiss on Richard’s neck and lifted himself up a bit so that he could appreciate the sight of his face. His darling Rich!_

_“I love you too,” Thomas breathed in awe, and their lips crashed together, kisses drenched in passion._

_They didn’t need to be quiet. They could savour each other fully, with no restraints. They were liberated by one another, free to love, free to be._

_Thomas moved again, slowly, his hips meeting the backs of Richard’s thighs as he pushed into him, gradually gaining momentum._

_Their moans melted into a single melody and they rocked against each other, craving for more, insatiable for love and closeness that neither of them had ever experienced before._

_“I love you, god I do- ah!”_

_Thomas's thoughts were disorderly, his words a jumble, but his feelings sincere._

_He pushed his hair back and leaned down again, kissing first Richard’s parted lips – and then moved lower, leaving a trail of rough, sloppy kisses all down his neck and collarbone._

_And then suddenly Thomas felt as if Richard’s jawline had become slightly more square-shaped under the touch of his palm. He caught a smell of that cheap Thirsk cologne, which despite its strong scent once smelled heavenly to Thomas._

_He had to look; though reluctantly, he broke the wave of pleasure that was washing over him and opened his eyes._

_The skin he was kissing was more golden. Richard's brown hair had turned into dishevelled sun-kissed curls and Thomas realized that he was looking at Jimmy's face, contorted in pleasure from the moment they were sharing._

_“I- ah- I love you too,” Jimmy’s voice managed to convey, despite sounding drunk with lust and desire._

_Thomas was startled and his immediate instinct was to stop moving, stop his thoughts, stop everything – but he couldn't! No sound other than a deep, lust-filled moan came out of his mouth as he pushed back into Richard – into Jimmy! His mind had lost control over his body, a part of him resisting and the other part surrendering willingly.  
_

_"God, yes," groaned Jimmy, small drops of sweat glistening on his brow. “Yes, just like that- please!”_

_His heavy breathing was all Thomas could hear and it made him unbearably hard, so he moved again, giving them both what they wanted. Jimmy was hard too, and wanting this, and everything was a mess – Jimmy’s eyes were heavily lidded, his full lips parted in desire for more; in desire to be joined with Thomas’s, in desire to have more of him._

_Thomas could no longer see clearly, but he also couldn’t look away. His hand moved of its own accord, wrapping around Jimmy's erection, stroking it. He ran his thumb over the head of the blonde man’s penis._

_"Jimmy," he heard his own voice whisper, pain and pleasure and both hope and hopelessness trapped in that word._

_"Yes- oh yes, please," Jimmy whimpered under him as Thomas synchronised the strokes of his hand with the movements of his hips._

_Richard? Richard! Thomas tried to call in his mind, but Jimmy pulled him down, digging his fingers into the muscles of his back and pressing their lips together to muffle Thomas's already mute words._

_It was different. It was devotion and desire and– maybe even love… Something in Jimmy's eyes. Thomas was lost in it. All he could feel was Jimmy, all he could hear was Jimmy, and he closed his eyes but he still saw him. He had often imagined things like this. It was a long time ago; dreams never meant to be. It had been wonderful then, but this right now – skin kissing skin, lips on lips, both of them sharing one breath – it was so raw, so realistic and tangible. It both thrilled and scared him._

_Jimmy’s hands tightened their grip and the blonde came with a low moan, catching Thomas’s mouth to muffle his cry._

_When he felt him on his hands, Thomas's body almost instantly gave in as well, bringing him to a climax that wrapped his mind in haze for a few moments that followed. A low, glottal sound of pleasure curled itself from his throat, and he crumbled down onto Jimmy, his body limp and exhausted._

_"I love you, I love you so much," Jimmy's voice whispered in Thomas's ear as if it were a secret. "I know you don't believe me but I love you."_

_A part of Thomas wanted to believe it. Jimmy's heartbeat echoed in Thomas’s other ear which was resting on that bare, golden chest._

The raven-haired butler’s eyes darted open in panic as he awoke, gasping for air and clutching onto the armrest on his train seat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: this was probably the first chapter for this fic that I wrote (well, a draft version that is)


	7. Chapter 7

Both Webster siblings lived in York, Jimmy had informed Thomas as they walked from the station to the inn; Chris in a flat of his own, and Elizabeth with her parents. But Downton’s former footman was now working as a waiter at a shabby hotel restaurant in London, so he was renting a room here in York.

On their way to the _Green Carnation_ , the pair said very little. Jimmy thanked Thomas for coming. Thomas told him not to mention it. He remembered his dream and chased the thoughts away.

Thomas didn’t want to make himself too comfortable by engaging in small talk – he was only here to help Jimmy. Business, nothing more. And certainly nothing that could hint at even the faintest chance of rekindling something that was supposed to be long six feet under.

After about half an hour of walking through the busy streets of York, they arrived to their destination. Thomas found himself standing in a small rented room.

There wasn't much furniture but it still felt crammed and smelled of mould; a narrow cot in the right corner, a washbasin, a wardrobe, a dusty window and a small table on their left. Two chairs. Creamy wall paint which was probably white at some point. A simple light hanging from the ceiling, its flickering glow wrapping the room in weak yellow light.

Thomas felt an ache in his heart. _Is this all you can afford?_ he pondered, and it was genuine sympathy, far from condescension or snobbishness. He was no rich toff himself, but to think Jimmy had to live in such conditions, even if it was only for a few days, made him feel terrible. In their correspondence, Jimmy had often briefly mentioned that the job which he got after leaving Downton was somewhat a disappointment, but Thomas didn’t imagine that it was _this_ bad.

A working-class lad like them could hardly dream of staying at a luxury five-star hotel – but Thomas knew that even a footman with Downton’s wage would be able to afford a more decent room, if only for the sake of basic comfort. The way Jimmy avoided Thomas’s eyes, a hint of embarrassment on his face, made Thomas feel like he was ashamed of his situation.

There was a knock on the door and Jimmy went to open it. Thomas also took a step closer and approached the visitor.

“Hello, you must be Thomas,” a tall, slender woman who walked in greeted him as she removed her blue felt hat and matching coat.

Thomas offered to shake her hand.

“Nice to meet you. Elizabeth, if I’m not mistaken?”

She smiled back kindly. “Please, call me Beth,” she insisted.

Her eyes were big, round, and dark brown, almost the exact copy of Chris's – a feature which Thomas remembered well.

“I'm very sorry about your brother,” he added.

Elizabeth's face darkened slightly and she gave a small nod, indicating that she appreciated his compassion.

“It’s terrible… but it’s impossible to insist that it wasn’t his fault, isn’t it? He always attracted danger, my brother. Should have been more careful with his-” she suddenly paused abruptly, glancing at Jimmy, unsure about how much he had told Thomas.

“He knows all the details,” the blonde man assured her.

She nodded solemnly. “Well, with _those matters_ …”

Thomas gathered that she must not only be aware of Chris’s preferences, but also accept them – to an extent, at least. She certainly wasn't shocked by them at this point or vehemently opposed them.

“What exactly was he charged with?” he asked.

It was Jimmy who answered. “Gross indecency. Couldn’t pin anything specific on him, but they don’t have to, do they? That’s vague enough so that he can't deny it - even if all he did was danced with a bloke - but it's still precise enough so that the pigs can lock him up!”

His words harshly condemned the injustice that had been done against Chris. _Where was this when_ I _was the one in question?_ Thomas wondered.  
  
Elizabeth made them tea and they sat down by that small wooden table. Thomas stared at a faded stain on a washed out tablecloth. Beth looked out the window, as if she could see much through it. Jimmy, with no chair, was leaning against the windowsill and sipped his tea.

“So...” he eventually began, addressing Thomas. “Do you have any ideas then? How we should go about this. Should we-”

“I think we need to speak about something first,” Thomas cut in. “And no disrespect to your lovely fiancée, but I feel it would be best if we had this conversation eye to eye. Just the two of us.”

“If it's about my brother, I want to know,” Beth said with a determination that took Thomas by surprise.

“Not really...” he explained, doing his best to be tactful about the subject. He wondered if he could maybe navigate his way around it. “It's just… well _I_ can't go there.”

“What?”

“Why?”

The couple spoke almost at the same time.

“I can't because I have a past with them. They'd recognize me.”

“Why?” Jimmy repeated his previous question, more inquisitively this time.

“Doesn’t matter, does it? Point is, _I_ can’t go there, so please tell me that _you_ haven’t been to the station in person yet.”

Jimmy frowned, looking bewildered. “Wha- well… I- I haven’t, actually. Beth went, but they told her it was bail or nothing. She came to London to tell me and that’s when I decided to write to you.”

Thomas nodded pensively, but Elizabeth interrupted.

“I don’t understand… Why does this matter?”

The butler almost felt bad because they had practically forgotten about her and she must have been completely lost at this point.

“Because if he _had_ been there, we would need a serious change of plan,” Thomas went on and then turned back to Jimmy, speaking with a more deliberate tone. “If he _had_ been there, he wouldn’t be able to introduce himself as Peter Barry, the butler of the Marquess of Hexam.”

At this point, Elizabeth had given up on asking any more questions and just stared in half-astonishment, half-disbelief at Thomas.

But Jimmy seemed to follow. “Lady Edith?”

Thomas nodded again. “The Marquess and the Marchioness had been to the South of the country a week ago. We’ll say it was three, if they ask for details. Right after their majesties had left Downton. Hopefully they won’t query you further, but if they _do_ investigate whether they had been away, they won’t exactly be able to accuse you of lying.”

The spark in Thomas’s eyes transferred to Jimmy. They felt a bond which they shared at Downton; like when they were both in on a secret or teased Alfred with some inside joke which only the two of them were privy to.

“You’ll say that Chris is their footman, and now that they’ve returned and found him missing they’d like their staff member back.”

“Which will explain,” Jimmy filled in, “why they didn’t send someone for him sooner. Brilliant!”

“It’s insane,” Beth interrupted, appalled by both their excitement. “And dangerous! What if they call the Marquess’s house and see that there is no ‘Chris Webster’ working there? That this ‘Peter Barry’ is a made up man?!”

“Call a _Marquess_? They won’t go that far, trust me,” Thomas assured the pair of confused doe eyes looking back at him. “They like making _our_ lives miserable, but they would never inconvenience their superior. And Mr Barry is not made up, he really is the butler there,” he added. “The Marchioness is Lord Grantham’s daughter. I know almost as much about their staff as I do about ours. The police don't stand a chance, they'll release your brother if a Marquess orders it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From Wikipedia: "In 19th-century England, green indicated homosexual affiliations. Victorian gay men would often pin a green carnation on their lapel as popularized by openly gay author Oscar Wilde, who often wore one on his lapel."  
> Hence why I chose it for the name of the inn.


	8. Chapter 8

_It really is you,_ Thomas thought as he observed the emaciated form of a man who was sat at the table, wolfing down his meal, a blanket draped over his shoulders to keep him warm.

Chris's face looked ashen and sunken in; he hadn’t shaved his moustache while in prison, but it was now accompanied by a few days old stubble which was giving him an unkempt appearance. His already slim frame had weakened substantially in the past three weeks on poor prison diet and hard labour. He looked tired, his eyes devoid of any will, bar from that primal hunger that drove him to eat, to fill his empty stomach with some decent food and drink.

Thomas remembered the man from roughly a month ago; excitable, energetic, full of joy, dancing and smiling and looking at Thomas in such a way that made him want to grab life by the horns and leave no regrets.

As if it had been washed away, there was none of that to be noticed on Chris now.

He hadn’t said much, and he hadn’t mentioned anything about Thomas. When Chris first saw the butler it was clear that he remembered him, but he made no comments. As if they were strangers, meeting for the first time, they shook hands when Jimmy had brought Chris back to the inn. Neither of them gave the other away.

Elizabeth sat by her brother’s side, looking at him heartbroken but happy, with both pity and relief. Thomas was leaning against the wall and smoking quietly. Jimmy sat on the cot, pondering everything that had happened earlier that day.

_“The Marques of Hexam?” the chubby policeman asked dubiously and raised his eyebrow._

_Jimmy swallowed nervously and remembered Thomas’s words –‘If you start doubting yourself, it’s over. Believe that you are who you say you are, and they’ll have no choice but to believe it as well.’_

_“Yes,” he replied as confidently as he mustered and raised his chin slightly to make himself feel like he was establishing authority. He wished he could loosen the fancy tie which they had put on him to make his cover more believable. The starched collar was scratching his neck. He was sweating nervously. Thomas had lent him his coat because it looked and actually was more expensive – no wonder, it belonged to a butler. This was the one item of clothing which Jimmy had wished he never had to take off…_

_‘Not so sure underneath…’ echoed in his mind. He took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of the coat which smelled like Thomas, and he imagined that the man himself was standing by his side._

_“His Lordship sent me personally,” Jimmy said and stressed the last word deliberately. “He would greatly appreciate it if you could release his staff member.”_

_He would be foolish to think that it could be this easy. The bloody policeman was made of sterner stuff._

_“Well why didn’t_ his Lordship _come then – personally?” the short, stocky man asked sarcastically and then lowered his tone. “This is no simple business! This man was charged with a serious offence-”_

_“I know well what he was charged with,” Jimmy interrupted, finding his voice and asserting it. “And if you think that his Lordship has enough time to waste on such matters, you are sadly mistaken, officer. The Marques is a busy man. But I’m sure you will understand that.”_

_The policeman took a step back, his eyes revealing that he felt well and truly put in his place – which he didn’t appreciate – but the idea that he had come dangerously close to offending a Marques triumphed over his hurt ego._

_“Well,” he uttered, his tone devoid of the previous pompousness. “D’you at least have a business card, a written note – anything to prove your identity?”_

_Jimmy took a split second to consider his options. It was risky, but it was, as he came to realize, his best shot. (Just imagine you’re good old Carson,) he thought to himself._

_“Prove my identity?” he gawked back, making sure to sound as offended as possible. “I’m Peter Barry, the butler to the Marques and Marchioness of Hexam and I’m here, following his Lordship’s orders, and you waste my-_ our _time by asking for me to ‘prove my identity’?!” Before he could stop himself, Jimmy bet on all or nothing, heart pounding wildly in his chest, pumping adrenalin though his veins. “If you want proof, go on, call his Lordship’s residency, ask for me!”_

_The shocked policeman blinked at him, eyes wide. (Alright, he got the point, less aggressive now…)_

_“I don’t have time for this,” Jimmy sighed dramatically. “But as I said, all his Lordship wants is his footman back, and if you will be so kind as to release him you shall save us both some valuable time, my good man. Because if you refuse to do so, I’ll have to go back and give his Lordship the news – which, I can assure you, he will not appreciate. He just wants the matter sorted quickly and with no fuss. I’m sure that’s in your best interest as well. But if he has to come back_ in person, _” Jimmy added with a subtle warning, “to handle such a trivial matter, he will make sure to raise some dust.”_

_A short pause fell between the two men, and even another policeman who had been writing something on his desk in the corner and had previously paid them no attention was now looking up in surprise._

_“Right… um-” The chubby policeman looked confused. “We-Webster you said then, Mr Barry?” he stuttered and after a nod from Jimmy, he began going through the book on his desk to find the name._

_Jimmy couldn’t help himself any longer – he finally reached for the tie around his neck and tugged to loosen it._

“Jimmy?” Elizabeth called and brought him back from his thoughts. “Is it alright then?”

“S-sorry?”

She shook her head and smiled. “I asked if it was alright if he lies down for a bit? I think it’s best if I take him back to his flat later, but you know it’s not that close. He needs to regain his strength.”

Jimmy nodded and stood up. “Of course.”


	9. Chapter 9

“Where did you two meet?” Thomas asked as they walked down a park path.

“London,” Jimmy said. “There was a dance at some local place. A few blokes from work went and dragged me along. She was there with her cousin... We danced and agreed to see each other again. And here we are now.”

Thomas smiled, but he thought that there was something very strange about how Jimmy spoke about his fiancée; his tone was so dry and formal.

Thomas thought about the day he met Rich and how he would describe it. Even without embellishing the story, he was certain that his voice would betray how dear Richard was to him. The way he felt his heart light up when he thought of him. His smile, a twinkle in his eye… Or maybe it was just Thomas who was such a hopeless romantic.

Jimmy cleared his throat and changed the topic. “You... you'd run into some trouble in York?” he asked; a question that had been gnawing at him since this morning.

The raven-haired man grimaced in surprise.”What d'you mean?”

“You said they'd recognize you at the station. I figured you didn’t want to get into it in front of Beth, but – Thomas, what happened?”

The butler sighed. _Should've seen that one coming._ He hesitated. For some reason, he didn't feel like explaining, and it wasn’t just about keeping everything with Chris a secret.

He appreciated Jimmy's sympathy – in fact, he was rather astonished to witness such liberalism regarding these matters – but for Thomas admitting the truth felt almost like humiliation. It had something to do with what Jimmy had once wanted for him. To report him and see his life ruined. Yes, the former footman had been put up to it and he had come such a long way since then, but even so… it burned all the more because of how Thomas used to feel about him. He felt branded by those cold stares and harsh words from years ago. Admitting that he had been arrested at a secret club for men of his sort was like opening an old wound. Once upon a time, Thomas would have bared every single scar to Jimmy, but these days he was more circumspect.

“I was... I ran into some trouble. A few months ago.” _No need to drag Chris into this. Make it a half-lie._

Jimmy observed him attentively, with no prejudice, and that made it more difficult to make something up.

“About what?” came the inquiry.

“What d’you think?”

The dry reply was meant to make Jimmy look away, make him feel guilty for asking something he knew the answer to - the old Jimmy would have done so - but this new Jimmy didn't break the gaze. There was genuine concern in his eyes, and also something else. Something so familiar to Thomas, yet something which he didn't recognize.

The butler ended up being the one who looked away.

“It doesn't matter,” he shrugged as if it were nothing. “Problem avoided.”

Jimmy registered his reluctance and refrained from prying much further.

“The Crawleys helped?”

Thomas shook his head and felt a warm feeling in his heart. “A friend did.”

Jimmy nodded pensively, his expression doing a good job at hiding what he was thinking, but it was blatantly clear that there was more on his mind.

“You know I don't care about that, right?”

Thomas raised an eyebrow. “About my friend?”

The blonde man smiled under his breath, however his expression almost instantly turned serious again. “About you getting in trouble with the law for... for being who you are. I mean, I _do_ care because it’s horrible, but I’m not judging you for it. You don't have to be ashamed to talk to me about these things.”

This took Thomas by surprise. During his last year at Downton Jimmy had grown considerably more understanding of Thomas's situation - but this sounded almost ridiculous.

A part of Thomas wanted to retort with a cynical: 'In the past, you made me feel as comfortable confiding in you about these things as I probably made you feel on that unfortunate night.' But the other part felt a regret; those were the words that he wanted to hear a long time ago. It had been too long since then. Now they were weak, a mere shadow of what they could have been once, their meaning diminished.

Thomas just smiled, but Jimmy seemed to be in want of a different reaction.

“Because,” he continued, rubbing his hands together nervously as they walked along, “I want you- I want you to know that I _understand_.”

 _Is this some sort of repentance for how you once treated me?_ He could have let it go. But he wouldn’t sleep a wink if he had.

“ _Now_ you understand,” Thomas said with a barely detectable cynical undertone in his voice. “Why do you keep bringing this up, Jimmy? Because I wanted to drop it, but I have to ask - How can you have such a drastic change of heart? It's wonderful, this, but... kick me when I was down but go to such lengths for Chris. Is it just because he’s Beth’s brother-”

“No!” Jimmy cut in. “Of course not, don’t be daft!”

“Why then?”

Jimmy grabbed Thomas’s arm, pulling him to the side. “Because I was a scared, selfish brat when it came to you!”

Their eyes locked and Thomas felt Jimmy’s fingers digging into his skin. As if he were holding for dear life, as if he would be swept away if he let go. Their faces were inches away. In Jimmy’s eyes there was old fire mixed with the new which was foreign to Thomas. The old one was blazing and impulsive, but this one was... scorching. Thomas was glad that there wasn’t anyone around them. What a sight they must have made.

Jimmy struggled. Something was boiling underneath the surface, and it wanted out. He leaned away.

“There’s no difference, is there? Between you and Chris… and me.”

Thomas felt his eyebrows almost involuntarily dart up.

“We’re all just blokes, trying to live our lives, aren’t we?” Jimmy elaborated, that fiery anger and passion replaced by jadedness. “I don't know why I did that to you. Wanting to report you, to hurt you. But I know that I've never regretted anything more in my life.”

 _It's conscience, then…_ Thomas felt his own impulsiveness ebbing away.

“It's water under the bridge, Jimmy. It were my fault too," he said softly. "It’s been years and we've discussed it, your letter-”

“My letter,” scoffed Jimmy. “That’s not enough, is it!”

“What is this then? You apologizing? Again? In person this time?”

Jimmy's intense stare finally broke and his grip on Thomas’s arm weakened. “Yes,” he exhaled. “I'm sorry, Thomas. For everything I've said and done. I was being rude and selfish and... and dishonest. Mainly with myself-”

“About your morals,” Thomas nodded understandingly. “I'd say you've made progress then,” he said, blind to the weight that Jimmy's last words carried. “You've not been dishonest now, have you? You listened to your own conscience and not to the O'Briens of the world. You helped a man. You've done the right thing.”

Jimmy's immediate reaction was a strange mix of confusion and disappointment - which he instantly concealed with a forced smile. "Yeah," he said quietly with a small nod.

They made their way back to the inn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to use this opportunity to say thank you to all who read and leave a comment on my fic, even if I don't reply to all, I do appreciate them. <3 And even those who don't comment but still enjoy the story, that's great too :)


	10. Chapter 10

It was starting to get dark when they returned to the inn. As Jimmy went upstairs, Thomas figured he better rent a room for the night as well, and head back to Downton in the morning. _The Green Carnation_ wasn’t exactly the establishment of his choice as far as the standards were concerned, but he decided that it was only for one night and he didn’t feel like bothering with searching for other lodgings or risking offending Jimmy by implying that the place where the former footman was staying was below him.

In the hallway on his way to the room, he ran into Chris.

“We’re leaving, my sister and I,” the slim moustached man said. “Just wanted to thank you again for everything you’ve done.” He put down his small suitcase beside his feet and placed his grey hat on it.

Thomas gave him a modest smile. “It was nothing. Jimmy did most of the work anyway.” He paused for a second and twirled the key in his hands. “And you,” Thomas went on. “Thanks for not saying anything. About Turton’s. About us…”

Chris’s smile gave off a hint of embarrassment. “Ah, yes… I'm terribly sorry for getting you in trouble. I figured mentioning all that wouldn’t benefit either of us. Besides, I s’ppose it’s about time I was more discrete about these things, innit?”

Thomas noticed a shadow in his eyes as he spoke that last sentence. He remembered the dark, cold cell they’d put them in – and then he thought of Richard. His moonlit face as he stood outside, waiting for Thomas to snatch him out of hell and bring him into the light.

“Probably,” the raven-haired man agreed. “But it shouldn't make you lose hope. Stop you from looking for happiness.”

Chris's face took on a melancholy, tired expression. “I’m not sure anymore that it's worth constantly putting my neck on the line. I've had a few close shaves before, but this...”

“I know,” Thomas replied understandingly. “But me, I'd rather go down fighting than bow my head down and let them break me.” _Sure, Thomas, easy for you to speak, you didn't have to spend weeks in that hellhole._

One corner of Chris’s mouth lifted up in a rather bittersweet half-smile. He looked away pensively. “You know, I keep thinking about them. Those other blokes, still sitting in there right now. Blokes I know, some good friends. Not as lucky as us. Hell, even Jimmy could have ended up there...”

Thomas suddenly couldn’t be more attentive. “Wait – what?”

Chris’s expression revealed that he realized he’d said too much. This was something which wasn’t mutually understood.

“Well I- I thought you knew,” he said hesitantly. “He told me you two corresponded so– or at least I was sure he’d tell you now when you came here-”

“Why could Jimmy have ended up in prison?” Thomas interrupted, impatient for an answer.

Chris rubbed the back of his neck and lowered his voice, even thought the hallway was empty. “He was there with me a couple of times,” he said. “At Turton’s. Didn’t go as often as I went, but still…”

Thomas gaped at him incredulously. “What? Why?!” he demanded. _What the hell would James Kent be doing at a place like that?!_

Chris looked at him and tilted his head in such a way that meant to say ‘Oh come on, that’s pretty obvious, isn’t it?’

Thomas shook his head. “But Jimmy- he isn’t- not… not _like that_ ,” he said in confusion, his words sounding more like questions than statements.

“Isn’t he?” Chris asked equally baffled. “Well I don’t know what to tell you, but that’s where we met, actually.”

Thomas’s eyebrows darted up in bewilderment, his face closely resembling to Carson’s whenever the former butler was scandalized by something.

“It wasn’t- nothing happened,” Chris explained calmly. “We were just friends. Besides, whenever he was there, he often looked quite... sad,” he added pensively. “Sitting at a table alone, drinking his beer, as if he were waiting for someone who never showed up. He rarely even talked to anyone… Anyway, we became friends and eventually he met Beth. He must’ve told you that much?”

“But your sister,” Thomas suddenly remembered, ignoring his question. “If he’s engaged to her, how- how can he also be…?” _But- Anstruther! Jimmy_ had _been with women…_

“You know as well as I do how that works,” Chris said. “It benefits them both. And he cares about her, I can see that. It’s his choice if he’s decided to… live more cautiously. If they're in agreement...”

 _Stranger._ Thomas felt stunned. His thoughts raged like a storm in his mind. All this new information… Suddenly the chips were falling in place, but the image was still blurred. He had so many questions and no clue where to start.

“Does she know?”

Chris looked down. “I doubt she knows as much about his past as we do. But she knows about me, what sort of people I often get to know. And she met Jimmy _through_ me so – I’d wager she understands what she’s getting herself into.”

“And you’re fine with this?” Thomas asked incredulously.

The moustached man shrugged. “She’s a grown woman. She cares about him and he cares about her. They might as well get something good from it.”

Thomas shook his head. “Wait, but what about London? The dance where they met?”

Chris looked confused at this, so Thomas presumed the answer without a verbal confirmation.

“And yes, _London!_ Jimmy works there, why did he bother coming to York so much? I mean, I’d wager there are similar establishments in the capital too?”

Chris shrugged again. “Sorry, I don’t know. Besides, I’ve said too much as it is. How’s that for more discretion?”

“There you are,” a woman's voice behind Thomas called. “The taxi is waiting, but I can’t find you anywhere,” Beth said in mock reprimand.

She approached the pair, Jimmy walking behind her.

“I was just thanking Mr Barrow again,” Chris told his sister and then turned to Thomas as he put his hat on. “I wouldn’t be here without him – all of you, in fact. Thank you.”

“Just stay safe,” Thomas said. “And if we don’t meet again, I wish you all the best.”

Chris smiled. “Same to you, Thomas.”


	11. Chapter 11

“So you lied about how you met Elizabeth, didn’t bother telling me where you met Chris,” Thomas enumerated, “And why the hell were you even there? What business did you have at Turton’s? What business did you have in York, for that matter?” he demanded, the words echoing from the walls of his rented room at _The Green Carnation._

Jimmy sat on the bed, shoulders slumped, eyes peering down. “What do you think?” he said dryly, a far more simple and straightforward answer than Thomas was expecting.

_Wait – this can’t be right. What do I thi- I think you were… You must ‘ve been there as a part of a prank, a joke-_

“It was _you,_ Thomas,” Jimmy added and a cynical huff of a laughter came out of his mouth. This was it. This evening was _the_ evening. Jimmy was out of time. “I was there because I wanted to be there, but also... I was hoping I might see you. How’s that for daft!”

“What?”

“I don’t know,” the blonde man shook his head and stood up. “I was missing something. A friend… I found out about that place and I figured it was the closest such place to Downton, and if there was a shred of hope that I might see you one day, that we’d be there at the same time-”

“That makes no sense,” Thomas interrupted, confused. “You never mentioned this in your letters- Why didn’t you simply write?”

“Write,” Jimmy scoffed. “Letters which could fall into the wrong hands. Which could never express what I wanted to tell you in person.”

 _Jimmy Kent at such a place... Jimmy Kent, a man like- no._ Everything felt upside down to Thomas, but somehow he pretended that it was real. “You could have met me, if this was... We could have seen each other if you wanted to talk to me in person!”

“But I wasn’t ready,” Jimmy shouted, his eyes seemingly eager to say more than his words could. “I’m still not ready – but I want to be. It scares me, this whole thing.” His shaking voice confirmed this. “But what scares me more is making the same mistake twice. Losing _you_ terrifies me!”

 _You can’t be serious._ “Stop,” Thomas said, barely audibly, and closed his eyes.

“It’s true,” the blonde man insisted, Thomas’s resistance apparently giving him the strength to push back. “I didn’t know who I was and I’m terrified of what I’ve found, but the one thing I’m certain of is _you_.”

“Jimmy, please,” _You’re lying. Why are you lying?!_

The dam which was holding back Jimmy’s emotions had crumbled and there was no way of stopping the flood.

“I missed you every single day! Making sure not to write too often, keeping the tone in my letters casual, praying they’d keep you close enough and at the same time far enough,” Jimmy continued and stepped closer, grabbing Thomas’s forearms as if to steady them both. “I kept convincing myself that I was missing a friend.”

Thomas wished he could close his eyes even more, that he could mute Jimmy’s voice. His hands burned into Thomas’s skin like branding iron, but he felt unable to move.

“But I wasn’t missing a _friend_. I was missing _you_!” Jimmy lowered his voice to a whisper and leaned closer. “And we both know that the two of us could never be just friends.”

Thomas’s eyes opened and he took a step back. “No,” he agreed coldly. “No, we couldn’t have been, because you knew how I felt!” he accused, joining Jimmy in laying all the cards on the table. “You knew that I cared about you more than I would about a friend and you _used_ it!”

Jimmy gaped at him, the flame in his eyes temporarily obstructed by a cold gust of wind. “I- I didn’t-”

“We were friends, yes, but you knew I’d ‘ve given you the world,” Thomas hissed, reminding himself that the walls of the inn were thin. “You had no problems exploiting that!”

“I didn’t-”

“Anstruther, Jimmy!” the butler glared at him. “One moment you’re sorry and apologizing and the next you’re saying all this, which-” He lost his train of thought and ran a hand through his disheveled hair to compose himself. “You say that losing me scared you,” he said in a tone that indicated he didn’t believe it. “But none of that mattered when you went to her bedroom, reckless as you are, did it? When you asked me to help-”

“You _offered_ to help!”

“But I wasn’t expecting you to actually go through with it!” Thomas retorted. “And I did it because I wanted you to be happy! It didn’t matter what _I_ felt, can’t you see?!” he shouted. “I never put anyone else first, but I put _you_ first! _You,_ Jimmy! Tell me, was it really that hard for you? So hard that you couldn’t resist sleeping with her, was it?!”

Jimmy’s eyes showed that he’d been hurt – but the honesty in that stare could not be dimmed.

“I _did_ sleep with her,” he admitted, never breaking eye contact. “But you know what I saw when I closed my eyes?”

Thomas scoffed.

“It was _you_ -”

“You’re lying!” Thomas said casually.

“-when I touched her I wished it was you! I kissed her and I imagined it was your lips! It was driving me insane-”

“Liar,” Thomas accused again, shaking his head to drive away those words that a part of him wanted to believe.

“Am I?” asked Jimmy, not a single restraint holding him back anymore. “What do I have to gain, Thomas? Hm? What will I gain from this? I’m risking losing everything,” he shouted, breathless and passion seeping through every single syllable.

 _How? How can you hold so many secrets? I thought I knew you but if you’re telling the truth… then I knew a mere fraction of the man in front of me, and you- you must be-_ And then it hit him – how terrible things must have been for Jimmy if this _was_ indeed the truth.

“But then why- why didn’t you tell me?” Thomas asked carefully and quietly, yielding in and entertaining the idea that Jimmy’s words were sincere. “If you wanted _me,_ why pretend that someone else was me? _I_ wanted you, you knew it.”

“Because it was easier,” replied Jimmy, desperate, defeated and worn out. “It was safe! How could I have gotten close to you after _that_ night? How could I have even looked at you without people alluding to something!?”

“You could have!” Thomas insisted, but he knew that _he_ was the one in the wrong. _He_ was the one who had ruined it because of that stupid kiss! It wasn’t just that, but it was one of the bigger things that drove them apart.

Jimmy stepped closer again, closing the distance between them. Thomas could feel his breath against his skin.

He had spent years getting over that unfortunate love, a burn that never healed. He carried Jimmy’s name carved in his heart, his smile burnt into his skin, his name still echoing in his ears. The words Jimmy was saying made Thomas feel like he was drowning. There was smoke all around him from his sizzling wounds as they came in contact with water; dark sea that was devouring him.

He felt it all; the past, the present, and the future. Jimmy's frustration, self-hatred, denial, and gradual acceptance when he inevitably finally crumbled, exhausted from running away from himself. Thomas felt the relief, the absolute liberation and the courage it took him to admit what he was admitting right now. An invigorating breath of embracing freedom and leaving your self-hatred behind; all mixed with the devastating feeling of how accepting each part of yourself meant another iron bar in a crippling cage that surrounded you. And then Thomas felt the cracks breaking open in Jimmy's heart – the cracks that his words will carve in once he tells him what he was about to.

“What about Elizabeth?” he asked in a whisper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This conversation basically spreads across two chapters (as you can see, obviously) and it's such a roller coaster but oh boy, was it fun writing this!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a lengthier one, hope you like it. Ties in straight with the last chapter, so check that one out if you haven't yet. :) Last fanfic chapter of the year woohoo :P

“And what about…” _‘Richard’,_ he wanted to say. But then he remembered that he never mentioned him to Jimmy – besides, this was certainly a question for Thomas to answer, not Jimmy. “What about settling down and all that?” he asked instead.

Jimmy scoffed and shook his head. “I wanted to ‘settle down’, just like we’d talked about.” He sounded as if he were in pain. “I wanted to find a girl, marry her, have a family, live a respectable life instead of wandering around with no purpose, stuck in some mundane job that offers me nothing-” He took a breath to steady his voice which was full of some confusing passion which Thomas had never witnessed before. “But I never found that girl, Thomas. I never found a girl who I could see myself growing old with…”

Thomas would have been surprised if Chris hadn’t told him what he had. “And Elizabeth?” he asked nonetheless.

Jimmy sighed. “She’s lovely, but I don’t-” his voice cracked and he looked down, his words turning into a weak and sad whisper. “I don’t _love_ her, Thomas. I know this, and I’ve known it for some time.”

It all made sense now; how he talked about her, why he hadn’t said anything in his letters, why the engagement seemed to be such an impulsive decision – at least the latter was something both the old and this new Jimmy had in common; being impulsive, rushed, not thinking things through.

“Why did you propose then?” Thomas asked with an undertone of accusation. “If you don’t want this, if you knew-”

“Because I wanted to _pretend,_ ” Jimmy cut him off. “I thought I could, if I just committed to it! Why’d you think I slept with Anstruther way back when?!” he demanded. “It was securing my job, it practically became one of my duties of being a footman at her household!” he said cynically. “But d'you honestly think I _wanted_ to? And at Downton… being so close to you was making me lose my mind, and I thought... I thought I might get over it if I sleep with a woman again, but I couldn’t even do that without thinking of you, for god’ sake!” His voice echoed off the walls as Thomas listened in silence. “I’ve been trying to resist it for so long, and then I met Elizabeth who is so kind and understanding and I thought I could... even though I don’t-” he had to pause and compose himself. “But seeing you again made me realize that I don’t want to pretend! I can’t! Not after this.”

He stepped closer, his manic eyes finding Thomas’s. “Not after fate sent you back into my life!” he rested his hand on Thomas’s shoulder. “There’s only one person who’s always on my mind. Only one person I think about when we’re apart. Only one person I want to be with, even though life is trying to tell me that it’s wrong!”

Silence fell between them like a heavy curtain.

“Why are you saying this?” Thomas managed to utter, because he didn’t know what else to say.

“You know why,” came a whispered reply.

 _This isn’t happening. You’re misunderstanding him,_ thought Thomas. He kept thinking it, even as Jimmy stepped even closer, so that they were almost chest to chest, the warmth of his body flush against Thomas, their faces only inches away.

He kept thinking he was misjudging the situation as Jimmy’s hand rested against his cheek, those blue eyes glistening with tears, pain and unsaid words, emotions burning through them like a blazing fire.

He kept thinking he must be wrong even as Jimmy’s soft lips touched his. It was only a ghost of a kiss at first; Jimmy kissed his upper lip, his lower one, slowly kissing Thomas’s lips apart. Thomas stood still, his body frozen in place – but his eyes slid closed and his lips responded, parting under Jimmy’s, tasting something he’d long lost hope he ever could.

It was a dream; a long lost dream, torn into a million pieces, chewed up and spat out, forgotten and abandoned. And yet it was Jimmy. His beautiful Jimmy, the man he’d spent nearly a decade wanting, the man he could never have, the man who could never give him what he wanted-

-that man was kissing him now, with pain and desire and urgency and longing trapped in those kisses. His hand found Thomas’s chest, pressing gently against it, but to Thomas it felt like Jimmy’s palm was made of fire, burning hot through his shirt and into his skin. And when he felt Jimmy’s hardon press against his thigh, he could no longer deny that what Jimmy had told him was true. He _did_ want him. He _did_ want to touch him, taste him, be with him. This notion was cruel and yet wonderful, more than what he ever dreamed of – and somehow, in some strange way, by some inexplicable course of fate, in all its beauty it was hollow.

Thomas regained control of his body and gently pushed Jimmy away, breaking the kiss. Jimmy leaned back just enough to rest his forehead against Thomas’s, and his ragged breaths continued to lightly kiss Thomas’s skin.

“Jimmy,” Thomas breathed, completely and utterly lost for words, a part of him craving to sink back into another kiss, all the while a pendant with a silver crescent-moon in his pocket started to feel heavy and reminded him of a love that didn’t carve its name into his skin, but was warmly resting in his heart.

 _What are you doing? Do you still love him? Do you?_ he asked himself, looking for an answer. Searching for it in Jimmy’s eyes, in his lips, in his golden hair which he noticed his hand had dishevelled while their eyes were closed and their lips busy.

 _I do… I love him,_ he realized. _And that’s exactly why I can’t do this to him._

Jimmy searched Thomas’s eyes innocently, resting his hand against Thomas’s neck to pull him in closer. “Don’t talk, please just-”

“I have to,” Thomas said and stepped back. “Jimmy, it’s not that easy.”

“I know, but I don’t care, I-”

“I’m with someone now,” the other man cut in, doing his best not to look away as he spoke.

Jimmy fell silent, his lips slightly parted. He took a step back too, looking a bit lost. “Oh,” he breathed.

Silence filled the room. It was more than obvious that Jimmy wasn’t prepared for this reaction.

“Oh,” he said again and took another step back.

Thomas felt the cracks which he had thought about; the ones being carved into both their hearts. “Jimmy, I’m sorry-”

“The friend?”

Thomas blinked in confusion. “Sorry?”

“The friend that got you out? It’s him, isn’t it?” Jimmy said with a calmness that clashed awfully with his previously impassioned rant.

“Yes,” Thomas nodded, trying to find the right words to explain. “We… he’s very dear to me. And I believe that I am dear to him as well. He makes me happy.”

Jimmy crumbled down onto the bed, on his face an expression which gave away nothing but the simple and striking fact that his world was shattered.

“Well, bloody well say something,” Thomas demanded and stared at him, wishing he could hug him until he smiled again, wishing that he could run away, disappear and re-write the past few days.

“I missed my chance then, didn’t I?” Jimmy spoke quietly, attempting a smile to brush it off.

But it burned. Thomas felt it too.

The blonde man suddenly rose. “I- I’m sorry,” he said, looking everywhere except at Thomas. “I should… I should go then, um- thanks for the, uh…”

“Jimmy,” Thomas stopped him as he tried to make his way to the door. He pressed a hand to his chest and felt his rapid heartbeat. Jimmy peered down persistently, but Thomas saw the tears glistening in his eyes. “Wait, please, don’t-”

“Just forget-” Jimmy said, and his voice broke. “Forget about it, everything I said… doesn't matter...”

It all came crashing down. How could he forget? How could it not matter? So much was said, but it wasn’t nearly enough. He couldn’t let him go, not now, not like this.

“Stay,” Thomas said. He felt the tension in Jimmy’s body ebbing away. The blonde man exhaled, a breath inside which surrender, gratefulness and defeat were trapped.


	13. Chapter 13

It was early. The sun was slowly rising over the Yorkshire countryside and coating in gold everything that its rays touched, including Jimmy’s face. He woke up and blinked into the amber sunlight which was coming in through the window of the room. When his eyes adjusted to the light, he could recognize the outlines of Thomas’s body; the man sitting on a chair by the open window, clouds of smoke lazily rolling away from him and into the cold autumn day.

The butler turned his head towards Jimmy, noticing that he was awake. “Morning,” he said quietly, a cigarette resting between his fingers.

“Morning,” the other man murmured, still sleepy. He propped himself on his elbow and reached for his wrist watch on the bedside table. His eyes spotted the packed suitcase by the bed he suddenly remembered that Thomas was leaving. “Oh… Why didn’t you wake me up? What time is it? The train…”

“It leaves at nine. Still have about an hour or so,” Thomas replied calmly and exhaled a puff of smoke. “I wouldn’t be so kind as to miss my train just to let _you_ sleep,” he teased and in response got a faint smile from Jimmy.

But the blonde man couldn’t _really_ smile. Everything was in shambles; he remembered the evening and his head was still buzzing from yelling; he could still feel Thomas’s lips on his; he remembered what Thomas had said and he was acutely aware that he was leaving. Everything felt like a dream – or rather a nightmare – and it had all been in vain. Last night, Jimmy was flooded with liberating relief, but only for the briefest moment. Now it seemed as if he had been hallucinating, because the truth was this: he had finally willed himself to open the door – open it to the only person who could possibly understand and the only person who mattered – only to have it slammed back in his face. They had an hour left together and probably an eternity to spend apart. This was the reality.

Jimmy eventually climbed out of bed to get dressed. Thomas was already in his suit; ready, dapper and proper, as was his habit. Neither of them said much, not even as they left the inn and walked out into the street.

Jimmy tried to avoid looking at Thomas, but it was a game he wasn't winning. With every step he took he was closer to losing him, and there was nothing he could do about it. Honesty was all he had, but it wasn’t enough. He had given it all, and here he was now, feeling like he had been played for a fool. Naively believing that baring his heart would suffice.

His last resort was to simply be there. Be there, next to Thomas as long as he could because he didn’t know what the future would bring. He thought about his letters and thanked the stars that he never sent Thomas anything similar to what he said yesterday – even though he had about a dozen drafts in his drawer, full of soppy words and confessions. It was just to unburden his soul. Simply to have them in case he ever wanted to send them. They would stay there...

He glanced again at Thomas’s profile. Sharp jawline, white and untainted skin, as if the man were made of marble, contrasted against his red lips that so rarely smiled. Raven hair, still as black as ever, with the exception of a few silvers at the temples. Stormy grey eyes that hid a galaxy of thoughts; dangerous and beautiful, and clever and witty and amazing. He would probably miss those the most. 

They arrived at the station about a quarter hour early. There was hardly anyone there besides them; an elderly couple sat on a bench, a mother with two young children, and a rich middle-aged lady with a woman that appeared to be her lady’s maid.

“So…” Jimmy began. “Safe travels, then. I should be going too.” He reached to shake Thomas’s hand.

“You’re leaving already?” the other man asked surprised, ignoring the offered hand. “You walked me all this way just to turn around the moment we arrived?”

“What d’you want me to do, Thomas?” Jimmy asked slightly annoyed, avoiding the butler’s eyes. “What more am I supposed to say?”

“Just stay a while,” Thomas asked softly.

Jimmy stood there for a moment before he couldn’t take it any longer. “I need to check on Elizabeth before I return to London. Goodbye, Thomas,” he muttered and forced himself to walk away.

“You can’t marry her, Jimmy,” Thomas called after him.

Jimmy paused in his tracks, turned around and took a few paces back towards the other man. “Excuse me?”

“It’s not right, you know it-”

“How do _you_ know what’s right for me?” the blonde man cut in rebelliously, and Thomas recognized a familiar side of the formerly stubborn young footman.

“The feelings you have won’t go away,” Thomas said a bit more discretely. “And marrying a woman won’t make you feel normal.”

“Easy for you to say, innit!” Jimmy retorted. “You have what you wanted, you ‘ve no need for this, and I- I-” he looked down, searching for the right words. “I can’t have that, can I? While you walk away and have the audacity to tell me what I should do-”

“I’m on your side!”

“Then why are you leaving?”

Jimmy’s question was left hanging in the air, but he didn’t need an answer. He had already made up his mind about what this was – a sign. A sign that he should fall back in line and do what he was doing before. No more daft ideas about fate sending Thomas back into his life! A part of him desperately wanted Thomas, yes - but he also knew that he couldn't. Maybe he didn't deserve him after all...

“I’m sorry,” Thomas said quietly and stepped closer. For a second it looked as if he was trying to hug Jimmy, but something made him refrain.

Jimmy shook his head and forced a smile. He still avoided eye contact. “You ‘ve no need to be. I- that wasn’t fair… _I’m_ sorry,” he said, scoffing at himself. “See, that’s why I should’ve left.”

There was a pause before Jimmy extended his hand again. “I’m glad you found happiness, I truly am,” he said as they shook hands. He meant it - he only wished they could have been each others' happiness.

“I hope you do too,” replied Thomas, his eyes finally finding those sad blue ones. “You can still write to me if you need a friend, you know.”

“Maybe…”

They both knew what that answer meant.

Thomas observed him as he walked away. That head of golden hair; that figure walking down the street with hands in his pockets and head bowed down wistfully. That man who once so thoroughly broke his heart. Were the roles now reversed? Was it possible that it was now Thomas who was leaving with half of Jimmy’s heart?

 _Goodbye, Jimmy,_ he thought sadly as his train arrived at the platform.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate starting the year with a farewell chapter, especially one which includes Thommy. Also, it was really hard to write but I knew where I was going from very early on and it had to be done.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He really will tell him (at some point)

He felt a hand on his shoulder as he waited for the train to come to a halt.

 _Jimmy?_ It was a thought of impulse.

“Thomas?”

He turned around to notice a familiar face.

“What are you doing here?”

“Richard,” he breathed, so surprised that almost no sound came out from his throat. Perhaps it was unusual, but Thomas felt like a misbehaving child, caught by a parent in the middle of doing something naughty – even though he wasn’t. Was he? He hoped that the bit of guilt he was feeling didn’t reflect on his face. “I- I was… I should ask you the same thing!”

The brunette man smiled again. “I ‘ve two days off. I arrived here yesterday to get some errands out of the way, pop in at my parents’, and now… I was going to visit you at Downton, actually.”

Thomas smiled nervously. “Were you?” _Oh god, he’s the kindest, and look what you’re doing do him, you idiot!_

“What business did _you_ have in York?” the king’s valet asked, his face still beaming with happiness at their meeting of chance.

_You can’t lie to him! No more! But… he’s coming to Downton with you. They’ll tell him…_

“Visiting my sister,” he blurted out.

Richard’s eyebrow darted up. “You never told me your sister lived in York,” he commented in surprise.

Thomas swallowed. “Guess I didn’t,” he said and avoided Richard's eyes.

They boarded the train together and found an empty compartment. They put away their suitcases and sat opposite each other, waiting for the train to depart.

“So, how is your sister then? Doing better?” Richard asked after Thomas had gone on with the lie about Emily being ill.

“Better, yes,” replied the butler quickly and quietly, adding no inflection to the words.

 _Idiot,_ he thought again, chastising himself in his mind. _Don’t do this to him, you’ll ruin everything! Just tell him-_

“Is everything alright?” asked Richard.

His ability to read Thomas’s thoughts never failed. Or perhaps he was just a great observer… Thomas knew that he would see through it sooner or later, and he wanted him to. He didn’t want to keep it a secret, but he also didn’t know where to begin. He looked down and rubbed his hands on his thighs nervously. He thought about Chris and Jimmy and last night.

“I need… Richard, I think we need to ta-”

Just as he was about to say it, a couple opened the door of the compartment and joined them, the man sitting on Thomas’s side and the woman on Richard’s.

Thomas sighed and leaned back. _I’ll tell you. I promise, I will!_ he thought and closed his eyes, reliving vividly the conversation from last evening.

_“I do love you, I know it now-”_

_“Don’t.”_

_“I must-”_

_"Well I love you too!" insisted Thomas throwing them both into silence as his words echoed through the small room._

_“Did. Do… I never stopped, Jimmy,” he continued quietly, his voice honest and full of repentance. “But this love... my love for you… it's different now. Can you understand that? I kept trying to forget, leave it behind, all the while I was longing for you every night before, and long after that kiss. Agreeing to friendship, just so that I could stay close to you, as close as you would allow me, and love you as best as I could, in a way that was comfortable for_ you, _because you could never give me what I wanted!”_

_“Thomas I'm-”_

_“I made a mistake with that kiss, I crossed the line, I admit that. I could even have forgiven you for the way you treated me because of it, and you treated me like I was nothing! But I could have, Jimmy, and I did,” he stressed in his passionate monologue. “I still came here to help you because no one has ever meant to me as much as you do.”_

_He paused to compose himself and took a breath._

_“But_ he _does now,” he added quietly. “And I did meant what I said - I do love you. But not like I Iove him.”  
  
There it was. Most of these words were long overdue to be said between them. Most of them should probably have been spoken when they were sitting in Thomas's room after the fair, agreeing to give their friendship another try. Or when they stood in the courtyard on that dull February morning, shaking hands, wishing they never had to let go, exchanging sad looks and ultimately parting ways._

_But neither of them had said it then, and now the significance of these words was changed. They became something else, but not completely unrecognizable; like water that changes from ice to liquid, from liquid to steam. It's still water, but its properties are different._

_The words that would once have been a glacier to Jimmy now burned like every cell in his body was boiling – and the feelings that once burned scorching hot inside Thomas’s heart were now transformed into a beautiful ice sculpture, a memory frozen in time, remembered with bittersweet fondness. The core of the sculpture never froze over, but the ice around it could not be melted and the core could never again be set free._

_“I'm sorry,” Jimmy said in a broken voice._ _“I've waited too long,” he pondered, nodding more to himself than talking to Thomas. “I've wasted it because I wasn't- because I couldn't bring myself to-”_

_“It's not your fault Jimmy,” Thomas cut him off – he was thinking about the way Jimmy turned out to be – but as far as everything that happened between them went, some of it certainly was his fault. They shared the guilt, and they shared the consequences. “It wasn't right, none of it. The time, the place… even us.”_

_Thomas knew how hard it was; coming to terms with being like this. How much courage it took, even admitting it to yourself. It was like signing a paper which stated that your life will either be a lonely lie behind a traditional facade that kept everyone else but yourself happy – or a vagabond search for happiness that had to be kept a closely guarded secret and could be ripped away from you and crumbled into dust at any point. Either way, it was a sentence to a life of struggle. The only reward and liberation came, Thomas found, in being true to yourself. No matter how hard it may have been.  
  
Jimmy had done the right thing, and it felt ridiculous to Thomas that he now had to push him one step back. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt Jimmy, even if the pain was caused by speaking the truth.   
  
“Don't make the same-” ‘mistake,’ he wanted to say. But it didn't feel appropriate. “Don't hesitate next time, alright? When you find someone.”_

_Jimmy gave him the saddest of smiles, one of those that were so very ‘Jimmy-esque’. He may have forced his muscles to lift into a smile, but his eyes couldn’t lie. They never did._

_“How could I?” he asked. “I never wanted anyone else. That’s why it was so terrifying. That’s why it stayed with me all this time. There could be no one else.”_

_“Doesn't mean there never will,” Thomas insisted. He knew it was only Jimmy's grief speaking, that he will see things differently over time - will he? - but regardless, it hurt seeing him in such a state._

_All he got in reply was a small, unconvincing nod from the blonde man._

_“I hope he never fails to appreciate you.”_


	15. Chapter 15

“I can’t exactly invite myself to stay over at Downton... but d’you think you could maybe spare an hour or two before we go there?” Richard asked as the pair were walking down the street, having left the station behind and were now approaching the village.

Thomas smiled; he knew exactly what Richard had in mind. “They won’t miss me until dinner,” he replied, enjoying how his words ignited a mischievous sparkle in Richard’s eyes.

He had missed him, and he never quite realized how much. As strange of a feeling as it was, here right now, side by side with him, Thomas felt grounded. He felt happy and content, and everything was as it was supposed to be. _Well..._

“Hmm,” the brunette man nodded. “Then might I interest you in spending your time in my company ‘til then?”

Thomas smirked. “Oh, I’ll have to think about it,” he teased. “Will it be worth my while?”

Richard’s lips stretched into a grin. He leaned over and whispered something in Thomas’s ear which wiped the smug smile off his face. He felt a flush – not gradually creeping up his neck – but nearly instantly washing over his face.

He gulped. “Mhm,” was all he could manage at first. “I- I think that would be rather nice,” he agreed to a proposition intimate and rather obscene to be put on these pages. "Though I would've said yes even if it were only your company, y'know."

The corners of Richard's lips lifted up triumphantly. “Grantham Arms, then?”

They both quickened their pace to get there as soon as possible, and when they did Richard booked a room at the inn. It wasn’t terribly busy at this time of day, but they still needed to be careful; Thomas accompanied Rich to the room, pretending to be helping him with his luggage. Both of them tried their best to suppress the rising expectation which began rushing through their veins as they walked up the stairs.

As soon as Richard opened the door, Thomas burst in, stripping off his coat. The item barely hit the floor when the raven-haired man was already being pushed against the door and pinned between it and Richard’s body, their lips fusing together.

They kissed as if they would die without it, their hands eagerly searching for skin under the layers of clothing.

“Mmm, that’s new,” Thomas commented on Richard’s eagerness when they eventually had to break the string of kisses to get some air.

“Well, it’s been a while,” the valet breathed in reply, and then bowed his head lower to mouth at Thomas’s neck. “Missed you.”

“Me t- _ah_ -too,” moaned Thomas when Richard gently bit a spot on his neck. He closed his eyes, hands clawing at the other man’s coat to strip it off him, digging his fingers into the muscles of his back. He felt Richard’s hardon against his thigh, and rutted his hips to get some friction against his own erection.

“Hnn,” came a muffled moan, mumbled against Thomas’s skin. “You know,” Richard whispered between kisses, his panting breath warm against the other man’s neck. “Been thinking about buying a flat in London…”

“Yeah, why?” Thomas's every sense was focused on pleasure; all he could feel were Richard’s lips and hands, and their erections rubbing together, fabric still between them.

He felt Richard’s lips twist into a smirk. “You know why.”

At that, Thomas instantly froze, his body stiffened and his eyes flew open. “What?” he whispered, a strange sense of panic in his eyes.

Richard took a step back and looked at the other man in confusion. “What'd you mean? Because I love you, Thomas,” he smiled, unaware of the weight of the situation. “So that we could be together more often, safer, more free, without having to risk getting caught in inns and so on,” he said and ran a palm along Thomas's jawline.

But the butler’s face had gone ashen and guilt spread over it.

Richard's surprise was replaced by concern. “What’s wrong?” he asked, looking into Thomas’s eyes. Grey, like the sky – but there was a storm raging in them. He had sensed it earlier, but didn’t want to pry. Now, it seemed there was a problem which could not be pushed to the side.

“It’s what you wanted to tell me on the train, isn’t it?” he asked, removing his hand from Thomas's cheek.

There was a pause, silence echoing off the walls. And then Thomas sighed.

“I do have something to tell you,” he said, bowing his head. He pondered for a moment, unsure how or where to begin. _God, I don’t want to hurt you, but you deserve to know…_ He took a deep breath before he spoke, saying the first thing that came to his mind: “My sister doesn’t live in York…”

He began with the letter that kept him up last time that he and Richard were together. He told him who Jimmy was, and what mission they undertook at the York Police Station. At some point, they both sat down on the bed as saying and comprehending those words became a challenge. Thomas reluctantly reached into the past, telling Richard about the former blonde footman and how he had once greatly misinterpreted the situation concerning him. He described how the tables seemed to turn now, and how confusing and surreal everything that happened in the past few days was.

Richard listened without a word, without prejudice but also with no affirming nods or any discernible expression. His face gave nothing away. Thomas could only see the wheels behind those eyes turning and trying to process the confusion which Thomas was spraying over him.

After Thomas had finished, Richard stood up and walked over to the window, looking out pensively. “So you're saying he came to your room last night…” the valet slowly repeated to himself.

Thomas darted up from the bed and took two steps towards the other man. “Rich, nothing happened,” he assured him, sensing what he was concerned about. “He was distressed and confused, and there was so much... so much that needed to be said."

"And he stayed there?" Richard asked without inflection, still looking out the window.

"Yes, but we only talked, I swear,” the butler admitted.

Richard finally turned over to him and his eyes found Thomas’s. The butler could see it now, and it surprised him – it wasn’t that Richard doubted his words. It was insecurity.

The valet reached for Thomas’s hand, squeezing it gently. “I believe you- I just…” he let go of the hand and took a step back. “I need some time.”

Thomas felt his heart drop. He should have expected something like this, but he wasn’t prepared for it. He wasn't prepared for how to react. “Y-you need… right,” he breathed out, deciding that forming words at this moment was not the easiest task.

“I think it’s best I don’t come to Downton with you right now…” Richard said quietly, implying that Thomas should go. A part of him didn’t want this, but the other part felt too overwhelmed.

“Oh,” Thomas breathed, realizing what he was being asked. “Yes. Yes, I- well are we still going to see each other before you go? You comin’ to Downton later?” His voice was very quiet and almost pleading.

Richard closed his eyes and shook his head lightly. “I don’t know… I just need to be alone now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk when i'll be posting next chapter, exams are starting at uni next week, but we'll see :P i'll need downtime between studying, so maybe i'll be working on fanfics xD


	16. Chapter 16

He couldn't sleep. Richard was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling of the small rented room at _The Grantham Arms_ , his mind saturated with a myriad of thoughts. About Thomas. About that mysterious Jimmy Kent.

 _‘I’ll move heaven and earth if I have to,’_ he’d told him once – but it was clear now that Richard wasn’t the only one worthy of such devotion.

He only knew Thomas for a little longer than a month, but Richard didn’t need to know him for decades to know that he was a special man. He was clever, witty, hard-working, and there was an air of ambition that surrounded him, much like the air of pride that accompanied it. Richard admired these qualities, even though it seemed that they sometimes did more harm than good. This pride, Richard suspected, had prevented Thomas from opening up about his problems. He would have helped him, had Thomas only asked. It would have been simple!

But there was more to the man. Despite what he might have led people to believe and how he may have presented himself, there was love in Thomas; however he rationed it selectively, Richard came to realize. Not everyone was immediately worthy of Thomas Barrow’s affections – but to those who were, he was loyal to a fault.

It wasn’t so much because you needed to earn Thomas’s trust and respect, but rather because _he_ needed to be sure that he could trust _you_. So much love and devotion, all hidden behind a wall of cynicism which worked as a shield to protect what was inside, and occasional spite to deflect any potential threats.

That mysterious blonde footman… Thomas said he’d known him for almost a decade. That he once took a shine to him. Did he love him? Jimmy had rejected Thomas, but now he wanted him back, he said…

How could a man not feel insecure, knowing what Richard knew? He _did_ respect Thomas for finally telling him the truth, but at the same time he wondered why it took him so long. Was there something else? Was there something to hide? And why did they bloody have to spend the night in the same room?

Despite a whirlwind of emotions raging inside Richard’s heart, he knew better than to point the finger. It wasn’t only what that Jimmy may have wanted or what Thomas had been withholding from Richard for a while. Some of what happened between Richard and Thomas was the valet's fault too, he believed.

He knew that he had weaknesses as well.

He was rarely insecure when it came to his work, to socializing or meeting new people. Getting to know Thomas, for example: a bit of banter, testing whether they were on the same page, whether he might have a chance with the man… It wasn’t nearly as hard as this. Getting to know someone was easy, but keeping them around – that was infinitely more complicated.

They were only a train ride away from each other, but they lived in different cities, led busy lives, and Richard’s work often requited that he travelled a lot. Anyone would be lucky to have a man like Thomas, and seeing him only on occasion was not good enough. He deserved more. Richard blamed him no more than he blamed himself and yet-

It was daft, he knew, getting so upset over a man helping his friend. But the problem was that men like Thomas and Richard went through life differently. They could fall in love like anyone else, but they could never be together properly. They could never kiss in public, let alone live together openly. They could never exchange rings and vows, promise to be each other’s before God and before the world. For men like them, there was only trust – or the lack thereof.

Richard was aware of his own shortcomings and he knew that they would only drive them apart, but he had his reasons. He thought about Steve, and sadness and anger filled his heart. The wound didn’t bleed anymore, but it was like an old scar; it was a reminder. What was happening now was an eerily similar situation… It was the distance between them that drove them apart all those years ago, Richard was certain. It was because he wasn’t there for Steve, and that other man was. Who was to say that the same couldn’t happen now?

He had a choice; he could either trust Thomas and risk getting burned again, or end this before they got too close. The last time he was vulnerable with another man, it terrified him – but there was a difference now, he noticed. Feeling vulnerable with Thomas was not only terrifying. It was also wonderful.


	17. Chapter 17

The sun hadn't risen yet, but Richard was fully dressed, packing his bags, ready to go to Downton at first dawn. The train station was only second on his list.

He hardly slept a wink last night, but his mind was clearer than ever, telling him the only thing that mattered at this moment. He needed Thomas. It was a petty thing what happened between them, and it was no reason to keep them apart. He wasn’t going to lose this man.

Wasn’t he honest with him yesterday? Didn’t he come to the inn to be with him? Thomas wanted him, and Richard wanted Thomas. Nothing had changed between them, nothing that mattered.

As he was hastily throwing things into his suitcase, in what was a very uncommon way for him, he didn’t hear the knock, neither the figure that stood by the open door of his room.

“Sorry to bother you, sir, but seeing that you’re awake…” a hesitant voice spoke.

“Oh,” breathed Richard in surprise and turned around to face the innkeeper. “Is there a problem?”

The man shook his head. “No, but there’s a man here to see you. I told ‘im we weren’t open yet, but he wouldn’t go away. He insisted that he should see you. I didn’t let ‘im up ‘cause it’s so early-”

“It’s alright,” Richard said. “Please, do send him up.”

The man nodded and left.

Richard put the shirt he was packing on the table beside him. He felt how his heart started beating faster. _Has to be him. Who else would it be?_ Suddenly, the guilt about not coming to Downton yesterday kicked in-

“Richard?”

The familiar figure appeared under the door frame. Thomas’s voice sounded insecure, and his body language indicated the same amount of reservedness.

The silence between them that filled the room felt louder. They just stared at each other for a moment, saying nothing. If they could read minds, they would know that they were both thinking exactly the same thing: _I need you in my life, and I can’t lose you over this._

“I was-”

“I’m-”

They smiled, having spoken at the same time.

“Go on, then,” encouraged Richard.

Thomas looked around the room and then back to the man before him. “I just- had to catch you before you left for the station,” he said and took a slow step into the room.

His eyes fell on the packed suitcase, and Richard noticed it. He smiled faintly. “I was actually headed to Downton first. I had to talk to you before I left,” he shrugged.

The butler’s initial reaction was surprise, but he couldn’t suppress the happiness that washed over his face.

“Good,” he breathed in relief, his white teeth adding a light to his smile. “I’m glad, because…” he took another few steps forward and approached the other man. “Rich, I’m so sorry. I should ‘ve told you right at the start when the letter arrived, I don’t know why I didn’t-”

“It’s alright,” interrupted the other man and reached to stroke Thomas’s arm.

“And I swear to you, nothing happened between Jimmy and me-”

“I know,” Richard nodded calmly. “I trust you, I-” he looked down, as if searching for the right words. He spoke the next words more quietly: “I have my insecurities too, but I won’t let them drive us apart.”

Thomas appeared concerned, searching Richard's face for answers. “Tell me.”

Richard sighed, still peering down, and reached for Thomas’s hand, holding it gently in his own. “I’m terrified,” he said covering his shaky voice with a laugh. “Terrified that someone better might come your way while I’m not here. That you might-”

“I would never,” Thomas assured him, determined to meet his eyes. His warm palm came to rest against Richard's neck. “The fact that we live apart changes nothing. You matter to me.”

Richard finally looked up, their eyes locking.

“And I promise you,” added Thomas. “No more secrets.”

“No more secrets,” nodded Richard and smiled. “Next time you need to bust someone out of prison, make sure to ask me for help. If we’re being honest, I’m somewhat of an expert in that department.”

Thomas shook his head and smirked. An invisible force pulled them together until their lips met, longing and devotion caught in their kiss.

“I think that now,” the brunette man began, “might be wise to close the door. Don’t you think, Mr Barrow?”

Thomas turned his head round, realizing that the door behind them was wide open into the empty hallway. He smiled under his breath, quickly moving to close the door, making sure to also turn the key inside the lock.

“Still struggling with being circumspect, I see,” Richard teased him, but Thomas made sure to shush him up with another kiss, slower and deeper.

“I love you,” he whispered against his lips.

“I love you too,” said Richard, one hand on Thomas’s waist, drawing him closer, and the other on his shoulder.

They kissed again, lips crashing together, their bodies flush against each other. Thomas was already half-hard, his erection pressing against Richard’s thigh, and the sensation made the brunette valet move his hips to get friction against his own gradually more and more aroused area.

Richard could taste the tobacco in Thomas’s mouth, a faint taste which made him feel oddly at home. The butler always smelled vaguely of cigarette smoke, and it became something familiar to Richard. But there was another thing that began to feel familiar; he sucked on Thomas’s bottom lip, on the spot where an old scar was.

“I missed that scar,” he commented, his breaths heavy and voice low and sultry, fingers threading through black hair which they had already disheveled. “You know, you owe me a night, I believe.”

“Oh, is that so?” grinned Thomas against his lips and moved lower, leaving a kiss on Richard’s jawline, then kissing down his neck. “Because I think it was you who sent me away yesterday,” he mumbled between the kisses.

Richard moaned in satisfaction in response to Thomas’s lips grazing against his skin - but he managed to pull away so that he was able to look Thomas in the eye.

“Doesn’t matter anymore,” he assured him and leaned their foreheads together. “I never want to waste another moment with you.”

“Me neither,” breathed Thomas and closed his eyes.

“I want us to enjoy the time we have together,” said Richard, running his hands under Thomas’s coat, tackling the buttons of his shirt. “Every minute,” he said as he undid Thomas’s tie and the butler reached to undo Richard’s.

“Every second.”

Their coats lay on the floor, soon to be joined by their trousers which their hands were eager to undo and feel the skin under the fabric.

“Every touch and every glance.”

They fell down onto the matters, limbs entwined, fingers stroking and touching and caressing the flushed skin.

“Every kiss.”

Lips were kissing lips, along with every inch of each other’s body that they could. Nails dug into the skin as hands touched the most sensitive and heated parts, the sensations saturating the mind with feelings of euphoria. Their ragged breaths and heartbeats filled the silence of the room, and they lay entwined together, skin on skin, half under the covers and half illuminated by the morning light.

The sun had just come up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter concludes this fic. It was good fun writing it, maybe if I had more time and patience I'd expand it, add some more trials and tribulations for our boys, but I think it's been quite colourful as it is, and I guess this is a nice way to finish it.
> 
> Thanks to everyone who read it and left a comment, I hope you enjoyed it! <3


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